


a kiss, on fire

by nishanightray



Series: growing attached series (juzen) [2]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, M/M, Other Characters Are Mentioned, POV Third Person, Zen's pov, but he's not in a relationship with the mc, events happening in his route are mentioned, kind of??, tiny spoilers for Zen's route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-16 00:36:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8079961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nishanightray/pseuds/nishanightray
Summary: Jumin has also gained, somehow, the power to appear whenever Zen’s talking or thinking about him, as though he’s been magically evoked.So when someone about as tall as him appears from nowhere and grabs his arm and pulls him into a changing room, Zen doesn’t really wonder who it is.





	

**Author's Note:**

> hi!! i didn't expect my other fic to be so well received... you're all great, i love this fandom <3  
> so, here i am with another juminzen ;)  
> this is set a month after "growing attached", and after the mc's arrival to RFA and the party in the main story; some events happening in zen's route are lightly mentioned, so beware of the possible spoilers!!
> 
> edit: this fanfic now has art!! you can find it here: https://twitter.com/z_u_ki/status/778531924377673728  
> it's really great and i love it, so go take a look ;)

 

When the photographer finally calls a break, Zen feels all the tension leave his body.

They have been taking photos since early morning, and Zen has been forced to drink more coffee than he’s used to. He doesn’t even _like_ coffee that much, because the caffeine makes him nervous. He’d rather drink beer, but there is just no way he will drink alcohol while he is working, even though it is a job he doesn’t particularly enjoy.

It’s not actually a difficult job: he just has to sit pretending to happily have delicious tea from a beautiful, high-priced tea set. He doesn’t have to do anything but looking extremely handsome –which is not hard for him, really. He knows he can manage to be as perfect as they want him too. So, the job is not really bad; except that it is, for at least two relevant reasons.

First, Zen _hates_ modeling jobs. He hates being treated like a statue, a mannequin, he hates that these people look at him and only see a man with beautiful looks, that they are not even trying to find anything more. As much as Zen adores the fact that he’s handsome, he loathes people who only judge him because of that –his looks come from genes, he didn’t need to work hard for them to be there, in contrast to his acting skills, for which he practiced and practiced and practiced, often to the point of breaking his own bones because he has apparently no control.

Secondly, it’s _Mr Trust-fund-kid_ a.k.a. _Jumin Han_ himself who has hired him for this job. At first, the job involved cats (of course; it’s Jumin we’re talking about), and Zen promised he’d do it. Jumin has come all the way into the mountains to search for him when he was in a crisis; the least Zen could do is to help him with that stupid cat project Jumin has been fixated on for the last week or so. But in the end, no matter how hard-working he can be, he can’t really win against his cat allergy. No matter how perfect his features are, he can’t model with a big, swollen face and red-rimmed teary eyes and a snotty running nose. Weirdly enough, Jumin let him get away with it, giving him the tea set modeling job instead, as he said there in the mountains.

Jumin has been acting rather weirdly, these days, he thinks as he lights a cigarette, hid in a corner. He loosens his tie, opens the first buttons of his shirt and lets out a relieved sigh. Jumin has insisted on him wearing a white tweed three-piece suit for the job; he seems to love suits so much, and they do look good on him, but Zen doesn’t feel at ease wearing them. They feel too formal, too expensive, not suited for someone who lives in a small apartment, who has had to fight for a place in the world. Three-piece suits are made for Jumin Han, corporate heir, rich businessman, not for Hyun Ryu, the boy who ran from home chasing a dream –he thinks this as he exhales a ring of smoke, than has to put his cigarette down for a moment and stifle a yawn with his hand.

Even since he was just an awkward teenager, Zen has had a habit of going to bed late, although he know he has to wake up early in the morning to practice, or to work. It has become a habit when he was young (and scared of falling asleep in a house all alone, and scared of the loud rumble of the thunder when it rained, and cold because he couldn’t afford a heating system), so he can’t do anything about it now. Even if he goes to bed early, he’ll stay up, staring at the ceiling of his room and thinking, and thinking, and thinking. Recently he has had a lot to think about –the new girl entering the RFA chat room, seemingly appearing from nowhere but easily finding room to set roots in all of their hearts; Echogirl’s lies and the fuss she has made, his career probably damaged but then miraculously saved at the last second; the mysterious hacker and V and the party.

And, of course, Jumin, who is supposed to be just a partner for sex, and is supposed to be only a cold, heartless jerk, but then swoops in to save his career like the damn rich prince he is.

Jumin has also gained, somehow, the power to appear whenever Zen’s talking or thinking about him, as though he’s been magically evoked.

So when someone about as tall as him appears from nowhere and grabs his arm and pulls him into a changing room, Zen doesn’t really wonder who it is. He thinks about the half-finished cigarette that has fallen from his hand, and now lies abandoned on the ground, outside; thinks about the strong smell of cologne stinging his delicate nose; thinks about silky dark hair in his hand when he brings it up to grab the other’s nape, thinks about how damn hot and annoying Jumin Han is, thinks about kissing him back with every inch of himself because there’s just no way he’s losing to him in anything.

“You should really stop smoking. It’s unhealthy and makes you taste bad,” is the first thing Jumin says when they stop kissing, but he doesn’t seem bothered by it; on the contrary, his eyes are darker than usual, still focused on Zen’s mouth, slightly perplexed, as though he’s asking himself why they have stopped.

“You don’t have to like it,” Zen says. “But I won’t quit.” He states it strongly as if he’s challenging him, as if it’s a choice, and doesn’t tell him he has tried several times to quit, to no avail. It’s just like staying up till late; habits you pick up when you’re young are hard to let go later.

Jumin doesn’t comment on it; his eyes are still focused on him, but has travelled to his neck. His perplexed expressions turns into a frown. Zen knows what he’s thinking about, so he fists his hand in Jumin’s hair and pulls at them in retaliation.

“No, you don’t get to make that look, like _I_ am the one who has done something,” he mutters, as he’s reminded of how difficult it has been to cover the marks Jumin has left on him. He doesn’t think he has ever used that much make-up in his whole life. And Jumin has the gall to not even look _guilty_ about it, on the contrary he always looks very smug about marking his skin –he seems to have taken a liking on it, seems to have decided to seize every part of his body he can take. Zen might have had a hunch about Jumin’s possessiveness; what hasn’t occurred to him until recently is that Jumin can get possessive over _him_.

“How the hell am I supposed to model if you tarnish my perfect skin?” Zen says, and Jumin raises an eyebrow as though he’s doubting his words. _Fucking Jumin Han_ ; he doesn’t see the struggles the others go through even if they’re right in front of him.

But talking about modeling, it suddenly occurs to Zen that he’s still working. His break should have already ended, he thinks, and regrets not finishing his cigarette earlier (not that he has had any say in the matter).

“Hey, let me go, I’ve got to return to work. Don’t you have any work to do yourself? Don’t tell me you left everything in Jaehee’s hands again,” he says as he pushes Jumin away.

To his surprise, Jumin lets him do that, while his answer is very predictable: “Assistant Kang is perfectly capable of taking care of everything herself. Also, I am on a break myself. Anything I have to do is perfectly scheduled, as always.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Zen thinks about poor Jaehee swamped in resumes and cat projects and suddenly a new wave of respect for her washes over him – she must be a saint to resist for over two years, because, in her place, he’d have Jumin murdered after only a week of work.

(And no, he’d rather not think about what they could have done alone in an office till late in the evening, thank you brain.)

Zen suddenly feels like he needs to get out of here and put a huge safe distance between them, so he hurriedly circles Jumin and moves to grab the door handle; Jumin’s hand is immediately on his arm again, seemingly determined not to let him go so soon.

“Hey,” Jumin says, his voice rumbling low. Is he irritated? Has he noticed he’s trying to run away? Zen turns to look at him, not sure if he wants to see his expression or just tell him to let go, and his breathe hitches when Jumin’s hands fly on each side of his face, cradling him more gently than he ever has before.

Jumin kisses him full on the mouth, but for once it’s not all tongue and teeth and fight, it’s unusually gentle and warm and so, so slow. Zen’s eyes go wide in surprise, his cheeks burn under Jumin’s tender touch. He’s had a few girlfriends in middle and high school, but he has never known that a kiss could light his chest on fire like that –no, he hasn’t known that a kiss _from Jumin_ could do that. Jumin has never kissed him like that before and Zen thinks this is so, so unfair. He wants to punch him, or maybe pulls him closer, or maybe he doesn’t know anymore because he’s melting and his cell brains are fried.

Then Jumin moves back, his grey eyes flutter open and watch Zen’s quietly, perhaps studying his reaction. He gives him another light kiss, then completely pulls back, his hands falling from the other’s cheeks.

“Good work,” he says, adjusts his tie and leaves the room.

Zen stays still for some moments after, helplessly staring at the door. He puts a hand on his mouth and feels like his entire face is going on fire. He cant’s stop thinking about Jumin and, _fuck_ , he just knows this is what he wanted –he really wants all of him, that greedy bastard.

_Fucking Jumin Han._

**Author's Note:**

> if you have read my other fic, you'd know why jumin has taken a liking on leaving marks on zen, lol. he's a terribly selfish guy... rn i'm playing jumin's route and whoa he's really possessive.  
> this time i chose zen's pov to have a slight different perspective on the pair, and i must say i had fun XD  
> contrary to jumin, who is a practical and matter-of-fact kind of person, zen is very passionate and easily moved by his own emotions, them being positive or negative. it's also funny how easily he gets ticked off at jumin, lol.
> 
> also, if you have already played zen's route, you'd understand why he is modeling for jumin's company. if not... i don't want to spoil his route for anyone, so let's just say that zen accepts this kind of job (even though he doesn't like it) bc he feels like he's in debt with jumin.
> 
>  
> 
> thank you for reading!! i hope my english was good, but feel free to point out any mistakes :')


End file.
